Just when my phone vibrated and the screen flashed a notification from a messaging app, I groaned inwardly, reminding myself of the times Minho and I stayed up pointlessly chatting and arguing with each other. Sometimes, our conversations merely consisted of various emoticons sent back and forth, as if we actually knew what each other were intending to convey with those random, immature cartoons. Some point along the line, I actually convinced myself that we knew each other well enough to understand.

I only wished it was not just my imagination.

“Oh, we have the same phone!” Minho excitedly cheered when we were sitting with a few other classmates in the school’s auditorium during a break between our presentations.

I laughed incredulously at his obviously faulted claim. “Mine’s so much bigger than yours! I think you need new glasses, Minho,” I forced out between giggles.

“No, I swear they’re the same size. Give me your phone. I’ll compare them side-by-side,” he cheekily insisted before literally tearing my phone out my clammy palms. I simply rolled my eyes at his childish behavior and let him disprove himself. But I definitely did not expect his next move.

Minho chuckled menacingly in his deep voice, which I had always found incessantly attractive, before jumping onto the stage and waving my phone in his hand. My face contorted in disbelief at his actions. “You’re never getting your phone back, Jen!”

I glanced to my left, only to find his phone completely unattended and vulnerable before dully staring back at him. “Did you seriously leave your phone here? Fine, you can take mine. I’ll take yours.”

“Mine has a lock.”

“I know his passcode, Jen,” our classmate, Seunghoon, whispered loud enough for Minho to hear with a smirk on his face.

I mimicked Seunghoon’s smirk after he unlocked Minho’s phone for me and mockingly waved the device in the air. “Not anymore.”

“Whatever, you can keep it. I like your model better anyway.”

“Sure thing.”

Thus, we kept each other’s phone for the remainder of the day before I chased him down the hall after the last bell so I could call my parents to let them know that I had to go somewhere before returning home that night.

“Song Minho! Get back here!”

“Fine! Fine! Here.” Minho handed my phone back with a cheeky grin, causing me to raise a suspicious eyebrow in return.

“What did you do to my phone?”

“Nothing!”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah, of course! Oh, yeah. Give me your number so I could bother you after school, too.”         

“What if I don’t want to?”

“I’ll ask Patricia for it, and you know she’s too nice to say no to anyone,” he retorted with yet another one of those picture-perfect smiles of his. I hated to admit it, but what he said was true – absolutely true.

“Fine,” I huffed in defeat before entering the digits of my phone number into his smartphone.

“Now I’ll give you mine,” he said as he reached for my phone.

“Who said I wanted it?” I pulled my hand that held my phone away from his reach and smirked at him with a raised brow. I watched as he fumbled with his phone before mine vibrated continuously.

It was his turn to smirk at me. “Oh, looks you have it already.”

And I did. On the screen of my cell phone, the words “The Awesome Mino” beamed legibly. I shook my head in complete defeat before turning on my heels and hollering “See you never, Song Minho.” Yet, the smile that found its way onto my pink lips never left its place for the remainder of the day, only to stretch even further when my phone chimed that night. The screen blinked on, revealing a Minho’s picture-perfect smile. That’s probably why he grinned at me so cheekily that afternoon, because he set a photo of himself as my lock and home screen – a picture I didn’t bother changing even after graduation.

Oh! You have this app too!

Obviously, since you messaged me through it.

My words bore such sarcasm and mockery, but the euphoric feelings were so genuine that my logical brain could not even deny my heart the right to pump faster.

See? We’re obviously meant to be friends.

Who said we’re friends?

Fine, we’re still just classmates and acquaintances. But I’m pretty sure that’ll change soon. We’ll be best friends!

Yeah, no. Just no, Mino.

It’s actually Minho.

You told me Mino.

You have hearing problems.

Pretty sure they sound about the same.

Okay then, Jenn.

But you saved your own name as “The Awesome Mino.” No h.

The longest pause since our conversation began stuttered our flow, before he sent a completely flustered cover-up message. And that was the first time I disregarded my every hobby to immerse myself in that cursed messaging app.

I didn’t even think about defining our relationship at first. In fact, I never did, because I always considered us to be too distant to even be friends. That was until Minho told me suddenly during a random conversation that I was one friend whom he could converse freely without much thought or effort. I honestly didn’t think much of that label at that point; I was actually relieved that he thought nothing more of me than a mere friend and elated at the fact that we finally progressed from acquaintances to friends. But it only progressed even further from there.

***

I read the message sent by Patricia before groaning loudly and chucking my pillow across the floor.

Are you still sulking? Get your up and get ready for the party tonight!

You seriously have a problem with parties. Honestly, what’s with you and pointless celebrations?

Her dripping enthusiasm for tonight’s gathering only serves to remind me of her party that has started my fateful bond with Minho, although I cannot define it as a positive or negative. Her infuriated response comes just seconds late.

My problem? MY problem?! Girl! It’s your party! And what do you mean by “pointless celebrations”? This is by no means pointless, woman!!!

No, it’s not. And it is pointless.

It’s YOUR BIRTHDAY!

Okay, I have definitely pushed all her buttons today.

I told you, I don’t want to celebrate my thirtieth. And here you go, throwing me the biggest party of the century.

It’s not big! And plus, it’s your thirtieth! Your THIRTIETH!

No need to remind me how old I am, although you’re only a month younger. And “not big”? You reserved an entire upscale club. The entire party probably costs at least ten grand. How dare you spend that much on me!

That’s nothing! It was supposed to be a surprise too, but you know I at those. But since I spent so much on my precious bestie, get dressed up ily for me, kay?

No.

The dress is in your closet already. Heels, you figure that out. And I expect to see you with makeup and hair done!

Go yourself.

I’m giving you seven hours! That’s more than what we had for prom! Be thankful.

Geez, thanks, mother.

I sigh dejectedly as I drag myself to my tiled bathroom for a quick shower before getting ready for my big celebration tonight. I am not kidding at all when I have told my best friend that I don’t want to celebrate my thirtieth birthday, although the reason I have given her is a complete lie – not that I look forward to turning old. But I don’t want to celebrate my birthday tonight, or any night, for that matter, because they simply do not bear the best memories. Well, they do remind me of joyful scenes in history, but those scenes always bring back the feelings that I fight to suppress for so long and emphasize the events that follow suit.

***

“Happy birthday, Jen!” I heard a conglomerate of voices sing the minute I entered my college dorm and switched on the lights. It was my first semester at college, and I originally thought that I was to celebrate this year’s birthday with only one friend, since most my closer friends went off to different colleges than Patricia and me. Thus, the varied array of voices in my dorm room took me by surprise as I stumbled a few steps back and questioned the owners of them.

Faces popped up from behind the couches and other trademark pieces of furniture in college dormitories. There were Patricia and a couple other friends who attended colleges nearby.

And then there was Minho.

The lights dimmed yet again and Minho was the one who approached me with a nine-inch cake bearing eighteen colorful candles everyone began to sing the song. It was officially the first birthday of many that Minho helped me celebrate, and I always questioned how different it would have been if he was never there that time.

After planning my college adventures and moving in with Patricia, I completely forgot that he attended the same university as Patricia and I, allowing us to grow even closer. It obviously did not help the situation that we majored in the same field and took the same classes. Study buddies and best friends. We came to spend a major fraction of our college lives together, even if we never intended to.

There were ones who asked if we were dating – many, in fact. Every time, our responses were identical: “No, we’re just best friends.” It was true. We were simply best friends – best friends who knew almost every hidden, dark secrets about each other and did not hesitate at all to rely on each other for anything. But it stopped there. Even if we ever developed any feelings other than platonic ones for one another, they remained concealed and buried, because everything that would be placed at risk was bore too much weight and importance.

And maybe we simply hid too much from each other – we refused to be completely honest with each other and allow ourselves to read the other’s thoughts and emotions like a crystal clear, glass cup – to still remain best friends. Perhaps it was ultimately due to our own reluctance that our hearts began listening to and abiding by our acclaimed logic. Forming our own circle of friends and acquaintances, we soon forgot about our own friendship – be it intentionally or subconsciously. But that was not as solemn as it sounded.

Eventually, it became a natural process – ignoring my feelings for Minho, distracting myself from petty relationship problems, and simply allowing myself to function like a normal human being. I mean, I was being a bit over-dramatic here; what was there even to wallow about? I had chosen to give up long ago, so I should just let it be as such. There was no room for regret, no choice of turning back time. There was not even a loss to mourn about.

That was only made clear when Minho fidgeted in his seat nervously, like a young boy whose puppy crush was discovered by his parents, when he, Patricia, and I dined at a nearby fusion restaurant one night after finals.

“What’s wrong with you today, kid?” Patricia asked with a chuckle, mocking Minho’s odd behavior. I only slowly made my way through my meal while observing my two most valued friends with a content smile.

“I...well...nothing.”

“Really. Nothing’s bothering you. Totally.” The dripping sarcasm was apparent in Patricia’s voice, and that combined with her condescending expression only allowed me to burst into a series of poorly muffled giggles.

Faced with Minho’s silence and continued fidgeting, the girl huffed in defeat and dove into another subject. “Guys, can one of you just like get into a relationship already?” She seemed completely serious. I almost choked on my food. “Or better yet, date each other.” Her voice did not falter once and her face bore no trace of a smile or smirk. I actually choked this time. “What?” she turned to me, without even seeming a bit guilty, having known fully well of my predicament, or even the least concerned about my current need for oxygen.

“It’s not like you guys seem like you aren’t already.”

Minho snapped his attention to me this time, and I applauded myself for being able to remain calm and pull on a façade in time. I rolled my eyes in Patricia’s direction and sent Minho a look of utter disbelief at Patricia’s words. I guess he fell for my act, as he relaxed a bit, but the glint of an expression that I could not identify remained in his deep brown eyes. “Patricia, you better stop before one of Minho’s secret admirers overhear and mistaken our relationship. Right, friend?”

I didn’t get the response I usually got when I asked a similar question, so I turn to Minho with a questioning gaze. He finally met my eyes, the glint from before expanding, and croaked a barely audible, “Yeah, best friend.” I heard a mocking stress on the first half of that repulsive title.

A little imagination didn’t hurt at times.

But that was in fairy tales. In reality, in this situation, imagination hurt like a . Imagination sent me soaring to cloud nine, and brought me crashing down onto the black, lifeless, unforgiving concrete.

I had always prided in being labeled one of his significant friends in the past, but that title suddenly seemed so demeaning and repulsive. I craved another label…

Shoving that thought to the deepest pits of my burning heart, I forced another smile that hurt my facial muscles and forced my voice to refrain from wavering. “Exactly! What if Minho actually likes a girl and she hears? That would be bad, wouldn’t it, now?” Doing what I did best, I winked at Minho, But I never expected his next words to tremble my heart to such a degree.

“Actually…” Minho began, nervousness apparent in his voice. “There is someone…”

There is someone…

Those three words replayed themselves madly and continuously in my head against my own will as my thoughts refused to concentrate on anything other than Minho and his confession. I was not delusional and hopeful enough to assume or hope that the one he fancied was I. Whether it was denial or a working sixth sense, I was only proven right.

“What!” Patricia was the first to return to reality and digest the situation, not like I actually ever did. Both of us focused all our attention on our male friend, who was now divesting to us the details of his first crush.

“I don’t know if you guys know her...but she’s in my psychology class, and I think I really like her.” There was this shy smile on Minho’s face, which was already tinted pink. I felt an uncomfortable clenching in my heart, and I knew more than well the cause. Keeping my own emotions in check and focusing on Minho, I smiled in glee – I actually could not tell whether I actually meant it or it was a mere gesture of my outstanding acting skills.

“Oh my gosh! Our Minho is finally growing up! What’s her name?” I inquired with a voice full of interest and cheerfulness.

“It’s Jenny, isn’t it?” Patricia’s excited exclamation brought tingles to my heart, and she brought me above that forbidden cloud again.

Minho met my wavering eyes, and the glint was still there. He faltered, probably for longer than either of us liked. Then, he flustered, as if being caught in the act of something unspeakable. “Well...yeah...it’s Jenny.”

My stomach sunk beyond its limits.

Minho admitted that he liked Jenny. And Jenny was Patricia’s nickname for me.

But Minho had not once called me Jenny.

My facial muscles were already protesting at the awkwardness and falseness, but I ignored it – just like how I ignored my feelings this entire time. “I think I know her! I think you guys would be adorb-dorbs together.” I winked knowingly and punched Minho playfully on the shoulder. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Patricia questioning my exclamation before glaring at me with her eyes narrowed distinctly. She was probably cursing at my guts for putting up another act again. But I just couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to make things awkward for Minho by acting like a dejected girlfriend, who just found out that her boyfriend of years had never loved her in the first place. However, maybe it was just another defense mechanism of mine to protect not him but rather myself.

There was also a hint of guilt in Patricia’s expression, but I smiled slightly – this time, genuinely – to comfort her and assure her that I was fine. I wasn’t lying; I was fine, because it wasn’t the first time this happened.

I did not know if I overdid the act this time, though, because both Minho and Patricia remained silent with unexplainable expressions; well, one was obviously fuming and wallowing in guilt, but there was more to her furrowed face. She stood by my side and listened to my every word throughout the years. I told her everything about Minho and I how that I simply could not take action. Like the understanding and reasonable friend she was, Patricia only comforted me without forcing me to do or personally doing anything against my will.

And, as for Minho...for once I could not identify what was clouding his mind at the moment.

I was about to question the silence when another friend of mine interrupted the meeting. “Hey, Jen Jen! Fancy seeing you here!” a tall, slim boy with dark, fluffy, medium length hair parted at the center approached our table with a charming, boyish smile.

“Hey, Taehyun!” I greeted with an uncompromised, bright grin. He was one of the only close friends that I met in college. I did meet many friends, but none grew as close to me as Patricia and Minho already were – none but Nam Taehyun. “What are you-” it was then that I examined his outfit quickly. Taehyun was dressed perfectly in a black dress shirt tucked into a pair of black slacks, accessorized with a golden nametag with his name and position carved meticulously onto it. “You work here?” I asked in a higher octave with excitement and amazement clear in my voice.

He flashed me another one of his boyish grins and nodded. “Somewhere along those lines. Celebrating the end of finals with your friends?”

“Oh! Where are my manners!” I feigned a haughty attitude and chuckled, with my friends to joining me just seconds later. I pointed at each of them and recited their names.

“Since you guys are here and I would like to think that Jen Jen is here because she already knew that I work here and just wants an excuse to pay me a visit, tonight’s my treat,” Taehyun said with a playful wink, indicating that he was joking about the second part, although to which extent I knew not of.

“No! It’s fine! We ordered way too much tonight! Don’t burden yourself!” I argued, and my two best friends nodded in agreement.

“Nope.” He turned away for a brief moment to tell another waiter put our check under his tab. “I have more than enough to spend on this pretty lady.”

I blushed at his comment and shook my head at his banter.

“But seriously, you’re not here to stalk me?”

“Oh, yeah. I put in so much effort to find out that you work here and came here on purpose. I wanted to pretend it was fate, but darn! You caught me,” I illustrated with dramatic gestures and expressions, causing all of them to joyfully laugh at my behavior. “Which is why you don’t get to pay for our dinner.”

“Too bad I already did. Well, I guess you can just pay me back by treating me to dinner sometime.”

With that and another wink, Taehyun left the three of us. I still wore an incredulous face at his obnoxiously playful behavior, but my two companions seemed to not understand the event that had just unfolded. At least it didn’t seem as though they were particularly fond of our little conversation.

Nonetheless, I did treat Taehyun back – perhaps somewhat too late.

It was Valentine’s Day, and after two weeks of Taehyun’s pestering and complaining reminders about how the dinner payment was much overdue, I finally agreed to his dinner invite on Saturday, which coincidentally happened to be labeled as the romantic holiday. Despite Patricia’s mocking comments, I refused to believe that he actually planned it. It was just a coincidence.

“Dude, he totally planned it!” she groaned while sitting cross-legged on her bed as I was on my side of the room, dressing for the dinner.

“Whatever you say, but what does that matter?”

“Wanna bet? He’s going to ask you out.”

“On a date? He already did. I’m pretty sure this dinner’s a date.”

Suddenly, I felt a soft plush hit the side of my head quite forcefully. I turned to glare at my acclaimed best friend and chucked the harmless pillow back, only to have her catch it skillfully. She already mastered this, hadn’t she?

“Obviously! I meant ask you out as in out-out!”

“What the hell is ‘out-out’ even?”

“You dip! He’s going to ask you to be his girlfriend! Duh!”

“What? No!”

My face was contorted in disbelief, but I did not fail to acknowledge the tingles of anticipation that grew in my heart upon hearing Patricia’s speculation. Did I actually have feelings for Nam Taehyun?

Apparently, she wanted to know, too. “Do you like him?”

“I...I honestly don’t know. But he hasn’t even asked yet; we don’t even know if he likes me. So why bother about the issue now?”

I heard a loud, muffled groan coming from her side. Was she dying? She certainly sounded like a dehydrated seal there. “You’re so blind! Of course he likes you! He basically worships you!”

“No one worships me.”

“Nam Taehyun does.”

“No he doesn’t.”

“He bought us dinner that night. Pretty sure it had cost like at least 200 that night.”

“He’s the owner’s son apparently.”

“That Christmas gift, though.” Okay, maybe the giant minion that he got me after finding out that I was absolutely in love with them – which was after I forced him to watch both Despicable Me movies twice in a row with me after he said that he had never seen them – was a bit over the top. And also the five-hundred dollar concert tickets that I had been dying to get in addition to that. His gifts literally made my hand-knit scarf, homemade cookies, and plaid-button down shirt look like . But we were close friends, and being the rich bachelor that he was, he also gifted his other friends grandiose gifts. “The closest thing that he gave someone else was the gift card to a high end department store that he gave his sister. In fact, he gave everyone except you gift cards.”

“I-but-that’s just Christmas! Doesn’t say anything.”

“And every time he brought you food when you’re up writing a paper you procrastinated on?”

“I buy him food, too…” Sometimes. Crap, I was such a terrible friend.

“And he just so happens to want you to pay him back for dinner on Valentine’s Day.”

“Okay, okay! Maybe he has some feelings for me. But you make it seem like we’re getting married,” I defended, or more like made myself believe everything that I was telling my best friend. It honestly freaked me out that Taehyun possibly had feelings for me. How could I handle knowing about his feelings when I was not even sure about my own?

“So you like him?”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you still like Minho?”

I dropped my hands to my side and heard the jacket in my hand fall to the carpeted floor. Did I not know the answer, or did I just refuse to search for it? “I don’t know.” Before she could continue, I stopped her, “And I don’t want to find out.”

“Jen…”

“It’s just so tiring. Acting like his bro, and pretending to myself that I have no feelings for him. I really don’t know how long I can hold up anymore.”

From the corner of my blurred eyes, I barely saw Patricia approaching my side and felt her light touch on my shoulders. “Jen...you can tell him.”

“No, I can’t, and I think that fact’s made obvious now that we know he likes someone else. We just can’t allow ourselves to be delusional anymore. I can’t dream and hope selfishly.”

“Are you going to end it, then?”

“I…I can’t. I can’t lose this friendship.”

As tears poured out my already sore eye sockets, my resolve began to waver, and I started to question if I could actually keep up this act. Was I already losing my sanity over the situation with Minho? Was whatever that was left of our friendship worth my own wellbeing?

“But if you’re hurting this badly, is it even worth it anymore?”

“This…I’m not hurt–”

“Then what are you? What are you, Jen?” I saw the streaks of dried wetness trailing down both corners of her eyes, as she placed the yellow minion in my lap and crouched down before me. She began wiping my tears before continuing. “You’re sitting here, crying ­– and it’s not even the first time this is happening. It’s the first time you’ve ever cried for a guy. No guy is ever worth this, Jen. You’re hurt – so incredibly, obviously hurt. Don’t even try denying this. I know you well enough to know that you’re only lying.”

It wasn’t that I was trying to lie to her. I honestly had no idea that’s what hurting felt like. I just thought of it as a sour feeling in my chest that would pass with time, and that it was impossible to feel hurt without being in a legitimate relationship. I fell in love with my best friend, and it was nothing like my romanticized vision of it. I was definitely not proud of it.

“I don’t know anymore…I just want to be able to smile again without feeling like crying everytime…”

And that was the end of that conversation, and the topic was never brought up again.

With the topic thrown into the pile of dust already collecting atop our shared memories, I became a professional at denying and completely ignoring my feelings. Thus, I did date Taehyun for a while. What I perceived to be casual dinners quickly transformed into playful dates, which soon became completely romantic. We became official towards the end of freshman year, and before then, Minho began dating Jenny.